


Not Interested in Caring About Other People

by travelinthedark



Category: Criminal Minds, Parks and Recreation
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-31
Updated: 2011-05-31
Packaged: 2017-10-19 22:44:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/206029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/travelinthedark/pseuds/travelinthedark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Agent Hotchner, as I honestly don’t care about any of the people in this town, I work very hard to make sure no one knows I actually exist."</p><p>Or, Hotch and Reid meet Ron Swanson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Interested in Caring About Other People

The Pawnee, Indiana City Hall building is exactly like hundreds of others, but Reid somehow feels unsettled as he walks under the distorted face carved into the stone above the entranceway. Hotch looks like he might be feeling it, too, but before Reid can say anything a perky blonde woman in a perfectly pressed business suit is greeting them with a wide smile and an outstretched hand.

“You must be Agents Hotchner and Reid,” she says, shaking Hotch’s hand vigorously. “I’m Leslie Knope, we spoke on the phone. It’s so nice to meet you in person, welcome to Pawnee. Did you find the building okay?” Her sentences run together too quickly for either Hotch or Reid to respond, but Reid thinks it’s more out of genuine enthusiasm than any type of nervousness.

“We did,” Hotch says, and before she can say anything else Leslie continues talking.

“Of course you did, you’re FBI agents, duh,” she says, thumping herself on the forehead with her open palm. It looks like it hurts, but she doesn’t seem phased. “Well, if you’ll just follow me I’ll tell you a little bit about Pawnee’s magnificent history on the way, okay?”

“Really, Ms. Knope, if you could just take us to Mr. Swanson’s office-” Hotch says.

“No problem, I’ll just give you the brief tour on the way. If you gentlemen will just follow me, we’ll start with this lovely painting depicting the Thanksgiving of 1814, when twelve Wamapoke Indians were beheaded for attempting to steal pumpkins,” Leslie says, striding toward a nearby hallway. “It turned out that the pumpkins actually belonged to them and that Pawnee citizens had been stealing them for years, but no one knew that until later.”

Hotch raises his eyebrows and looks at Reid, who half shrugs and follows after her. He has to run a few steps now and then to keep up with her, but somehow it still takes them half an hour to get to the Parks and Recreation office one floor and two hallways away.

“And that is just some of the amazing history Pawnee has to offer,” Leslie says with a smile, coming to stop in front of a non-descript office door. The receptionist sitting at the desk outside of it appears to be painting her toenails black, and Reid watches as the phone rings and she lifts the receiver and immediately slams it back down again before glaring at them and turning her chair to face the other direction. “This is Ron’s office,” Leslie continues, “you can go on in.”

“Thank you,” Hotch says, opening the door.

Leslie turns to Reid, still grinning, and Reid smiles back awkwardly and forces out a mumbled, “Thanks for the tour,” before following.

“Ron Swanson?” Hotch asks, stepping inside of the room.

“No,” Ron says, without looking up. Hotch furrows his brow and shoots a suspicious look at Reid, who raises his eyebrows and shrugs.

“Mr. Swanson, your name is on both your office door and your desk.”

“You must be mistaken,” Ron says.

“And Ms. Knope just brought us here.”

“Then she must be mistaken,” Ron says.

Hotch opens his mouth to speak again, but Reid can’t help blurting out, “Is that a plate of bacon?” before he has a chance to say anything.

“How observant,” Ron says dryly, glancing up at him. “You’ve identified my 2 pm snack.”

Hotch shoots Reid an annoyed look before turning back to Ron. “Mr. Swanson, I’m Special Agent Hotchner and this is Doctor Reid from the FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit. We’re here to ask you a few questions about some disturbing information we’ve received recently.”

“There’s no need,” Ron says, finally sitting back in his chair and looking Hotch in the eye. “Whatever it is, I promise you it’s the work of the demon whore I call my ex-wife. You’ll find her at the library, stealing the souls of the innocent and thinking of new ways to ruin my life. Just look for the woman standing in front of the fiery gates of hell.”

“You don’t even know why we’re here,” Reid points out.

“I don’t need to,” Ron replies. “All evil in this town spawns directly from Tammy.”

“I see,” Hotch says evenly. “Well, be that as it may, we’ve received some disturbing reports from Pawnee residents, and all of them seem to involve you directly. There’s been no mention of a Tammy, or anyone else.”

“Agent Hotchner, as I honestly don’t care about any of the people in this town, I work very hard to make sure no one knows I actually exist. I find it difficult to believe that anyone has taken the time to file a report against me.”

“Mr. Swanson, I’m going to cut to the chase. A number of parents have submitted photographic evidence of you approaching their children in public areas, lurking in their yards at night, and touching yourself inappropriately in family establishments.” Hotch tosses a stack of photos onto Ron’s desk. “In combination with their previous complaints, we’re taking this very seriously, and I suggest you do the same.”

Ron leans forward and begins flipping through the photos, all of which, Reid knows, plainly depict him in incriminating scenarios. Whatever reaction Reid was expecting, though, it certainly isn’t Ron’s low chuckle and amused smile.

“Tammy, you magnificent bitch,” Ron murmurs, still flipping through the photos, “you’ve really outdone yourself this time.” When he gets to the end of the stack he sets them down and leans back in his chair, still unaffected. “I would rather stab myself in the eyeball with this letter opener than set foot in an arcade,” he says, gesturing vaguely at his desk. “None of those photos are real.” Hotch opens his mouth to reply, but Ron cuts him off with a raised hand. “If you want to continue this conversation, I’m going to have to insist that Tammy be included.”

“I’m afraid we’re not finished with our preliminary questions,” Hotch says. “Perhaps later we can look into your allegations, but for right now we need to speak with you alone.”

“Very well,” Ron says, picking up a piece of bacon from the plate in front of him, “but I’m going to go ahead and ignore you while I finish reading the paper. When you’re ready to take this seriously, I’ll do the same.” Reid watches with astonishment as he turns the chair to face the paper and takes a bite of the bacon, completely calm as he ignores Hotch’s angry stare.

“Mr. Swanson-” Reid says, and is startled when Leslie’s voice interrupts from behind him.

“Oh, he can’t hear you, Dr. Reid,” she says. “Once he’s started eating bacon you have to wait for him to finish.”

“Ms. Knope, this is a private conversation,” Reid says.

“I know,” Leslie says with a bright smile, “that’s why I’ve been silent back here. To give you your privacy.”

Hotch shares a bewildered look with Reid before they excuse themselves to speak privately- “Which doesn’t include you, Ms. Knope”- about the situation.

 

After thirty minutes of Ron blatantly ignoring them, two more offers for full City Hall tours from Leslie, and some random man recommending a local vegan restaurant’s tofu burger as “literally the best meal in Pawnee, I mean, literally,” they finally give in and escort Ron to their car to take him to the library to speak with Tammy.

“I’m going to the seventh level of hell with these gentlemen,” Ron announces to the office as they walk through the bullpen. “Don’t bother April while I’m gone.” The receptionist glances up at him and blinks before turning back to the magazine on her desk.

“Be careful, Ron,” a young Indian man says from where he’s perched on an overweight gentleman’s desk. “Don’t let medusa’s ta-ta’s mesmerize you again.”

“I won’t,” Ron says with a nod. Reid gets the feeling that Pawnee is an even stranger place than he’d previously thought.

 

As they’re entering the library building, Ron stops and addresses them seriously. “Don’t look anyone in the eye for too long while you’re in here,” he says. “This is a dangerous place.”

“I like libraries,” Reid protests.

Ron looks him over and shakes his head sadly. “You have a lot to learn, son.”

Hotch looks more confused than ever, and Reid just shrugs again as they follow Ron into the building. A pretty brunette librarian who is lurking in the foyer cackles when she sees them, and from Ron’s greeting of, “You evil bitch,” Reid assumes she must be Tammy. It takes them less than three questions to figure out she framed Ron with the complaints and photos all by herself.

“The library is the devil’s playground,” Ron says.

Reid decides he needs to get the hell out of Pawnee.


End file.
